


but he still doesn't know her

by ellixian



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Episode: 4x17 Identity And Change, WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY, perhaps this is why, please can this be why??, why. did. nobody. tell. coulson. about. melinda. may??!!??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 08:44:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellixian/pseuds/ellixian
Summary: But he still doesn’t know her. He doesn’t know himself.And, she realises, her heart going cold at the thought - he doesn’t know May.





	

“Daisy?”

Relief snaps like electricity through her veins.

_You remember._

Warmth floods her cheeks, spreads across her chest, and she almost sobs as the tension drains from the fingers she’s pressing into his shoulder.

For the past twelve hours, there’s been an eerie chill to everything - her bones, her heart, her mind. She recognises it as survival mode: her body trying to keep her sane, keep her alive, even in a hell dimension where Grant Ward is somehow flesh again and the light has left Melinda May’s eyes.

But now - Coulson remembers, _he remembers_ , and he’ll know what to do. Everything will be okay.

“Oh my god, Coulson,” she leans forward in her seat - _May needs you. I need you_ \- but the words she’s been dying to say die in her throat. 

He’s studying her in the rear-view mirror, eyes sparkling with a child-like curiosity. 

Ice begins to creep back into her finger-tips, and her hand drops to her side.

He’s Coulson - but not. She can see it in the way he holds himself, the fresh thrill of discovery crackling across his skin. 

There’s something - a spark, a hint, a clue - of his past life in his eyes now. 

But he still doesn’t _know_ her. He doesn’t know _himself_.

And, she realises, her heart going cold at the thought - he doesn’t know _May_. 

She’s literally never lived in a world where Phil Coulson doesn’t know Melinda May. 

It’s enough to make the panic she’s shoved under layers of _move survive get everyone the fuck out of here_ come screaming to the surface.

“I _do_ know you,” he says, surprise lighting up his words, “I know that now.”

“What… exactly do you remember?” she forces herself to ask, her voice calm even though her heart has swopped places with her stomach and all she wants to do is cry.

But even before he tells her - that there’s a thick fog in his memories where she used to be, that he can make out shapes through it, forms and impressions that he can _feel_ but cannot quite see - she knows that he’s not ready.

He’s not ready to know about May. 

He’s already broken, and it would break him again. He would search, and search, and tear apart his own mind, begging for his memories, for clarity. But May - his May, and all the horrors and wonders and worlds they’d seen together - would linger just out of reach, and it would drive him mad. 

Or worse - he would rush to her side, and he would try to save her, and he would die - in so many, too many ways. He would die in the attempt, caught in a crossfire he’s not equipped to survive. He would die when he lays eyes on who she is here, hard and damaged and Hydra through and through. 

Or he would die, when May - this May, this wrong, sad, terrible May - shoots him through the heart.

_Keep him safe_ , she can almost hear May telling her. May would never say those words out loud, but they’re written into everything she does. _Keep him safe._

_I’ll tell him when he’s ready_ , she promises herself, and May. 

Until then - 

She squares her shoulders.

She’ll find a way out. She has to.


End file.
